


Obedient, Like a Charmed Snake

by SinfullyDelicious



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Blood and Violence, Drug Use, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Knifeplay, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-02 02:05:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14534328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinfullyDelicious/pseuds/SinfullyDelicious
Summary: The Deputy is new to this county. To this world. To these smiling faces that hide years of abuse, to the smirk that sends her reeling, even as he cuts into her flesh. She shouldn't feel anything for any of them, and yet...





	1. The Spoils of War

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so, for my first work on AO3, I wanted to give you far longer than a standard chapter. In all honestly, I got so excited writing I forgot to stop!!
> 
> As always, Far Cry does not belong to me in anyway, neither do the characters, I just fell in love with John Seed's smooth voice and snarky attitude.
> 
>  
> 
> I really hope you enjoy, see the bottom for more Notes!

The deputy breathed a sigh, air misting slightly in front of her. It wasn't quite chilly, but the distance in the air, from the helicopter was enough to make her shiver, and pull her coat tighter around her. The sheriff was trying to explain the area to her, mentioned the Henbane River or something that sounded similar, but she didn’t hear it. She was too busy concentrating, steeling herself for the mission ahead. It wasn’t like she HADN’T taken on missions before, but never something so large. Or, at least, never an operation that seemed so freakishly prepared, despite making their headquarters out in the middle of Nowhere, Midwestern USA.

As they hopped off the chopper she vaguely registered the words “If we don’t come back in 15 minutes, call in everyone. The whole damn National Guard.” Was that… All they were giving themselves? Fifteen minutes to maybe make it back to this chopper with the very leader of this freaky Cult, AT his compound?  
To her, that did not inspire confidence, and that was the source of her hesitation, as she was ordered to handcuff the leader in question. Joseph Seed. Shirtless and covered in scars, words she had no doubt expressed his sins to his followers. He was staring at her with the cool calm of a man in complete control of his situation. She was reminded, almost immediately when faced with those eyes, of the way a predator on the hunt looked at its prey. That moment, the calm moment when the snake reared up, or the big cat crouched low in the grass, its unsuspecting meal not ever expecting the strike.

That look, that look froze her to her core. It seemed to reach inside her, twisting her from the inside, daring her to make a decision. She nearly jumped five feet up when Whitetail wrenched the cuffs from her grasp, and cuffed Seed himself, pushing her aside lightly as he wrangled Joseph against him, and began moving towards the helicopter again. She stumbled, almost as if she'd been in a haze, and felt a soft hand give her the slightest push towards the rest of her soldiers. She ignored its source, ignoring the confusion still clouding her brain at her own hesitation. This man was… Awful. She'd read his papers. He was a manipulative maniac.

So why, as she took her seat across from him and met those piercing eyes again, had she hesitated? Why, now, did she feel herself latched to those eyes, as his face twisted into a smirk? She opened her mouth to form a question that she did not understand how to ask, only to have the helicopter suddenly lurch, as it attempted to take off. She was ripped out of her reverie as everything around her went to FUCKING Hell.

The project members were ATTACKING the helicopter. She noticed one on the front, and was about to draw her gun, before the man jumped at the goddamn rudders, sending the entire thing on a suicidal nosedive. And as the helicopter crashed in a plume of smoke and fire, all she could hear was Joseph Seed singing sweetly and peacefully...

………

She blinked in, and out of consciousness. Only small snippets floated out to her, out of the haze in her eyes and the pounding in her head. Words that suck with her were “… John Seed... , … Atonement…. , … Cleansing….” Finally, after what seemed like eons of time and pain, she bleary blinked awake, tied to a chair. The room was so dark, she wasn’t sure, at first, if her eyes were quite working. Everything was bathed in a strange glow, a red glow, and a soft whistling sound blew through the room. Even in her haze, she could place the sound of an active AC unit. That told her, at least, that she was in a… big facility, though where that was, she had no idea.

A light clicked on, and she looked towards it almost automatically. A pair of beautiful blue eyes shined back at her, a smirk illuminated by the lamp in front of it. His body was hidden behind the lamp, drowned out in the red light that filled out the rest of the room. He finally straightened, pushing the lamp up to illuminate the area.

She remembered the files on the Seed family. This was John Seed, the youngest brother and, arguably, the most sadistic. His claim was that he could cleanse people by scraping the sin out of their bodies, and therefore "cleansing" them of it. A shiver ran down her spine, and she struggled, shaking in the chair.

John held a finger to hips lips, moving quickly over to stroke her face. “Shhhh, shhhh.” He chided her, catching her chin to make her meet his eyes. Something about being forced to make contact with those baby blues had the opposite effect of Joseph's eyes. With Joseph, she felt like prey about to be pounced upon. With John…

She felt like prey caught, gussed up, and being positively DEVOURED already.

He smirked again, resting a tattoo gun on her shoulder, exposed with the scoop neck t-shirt she wore. “Stay quiet.” He ordered again. “Stay calm. I am to be gentle, with you.” He tutted, shaking his head. “Joseph noticed your hesitation at the Church, when your people tried to take him. He knows you want to stay.” He pressed the gun against her chest, flicking it on with a movement that she did not even register.

“I am going to cut your sin into you.” He continued. “And once you confess, once I cut this into you, you will begin to walk the path towards Eden's Gate. You will join us, in the Project, join us in helping prepare for the Father's great collapse.” She noticed a twitch of his eyes, at that. She almost wondered how… religious he was. If… he believed the words he was saying. He continued, and she snapped back, trying to focus on his words. “All you have to do is confess, sinner.” He replied easily, standing, and tapping his gun against her shoulder blade. “Confess your sins to me, let me write them into your soul. You will wear them proudly as you march onward to the Gate.”

The gun buzzed in her ear, and she shuddered involuntarily. What kind of sick, twisted Cult was this? They really thought she, a stranger, was going to just…. Agree? She'd never been religious in the past, why would she start-

She was cut off by a sharp snap across her cheek, making her eyes go blind for a second, hollow laughter sounding in her ear. “You’re not listening, darling.” He replied, leaning on the chair, pinning her in with his arms. “You have to pay attention. This is a confession, not a dream sequence you can pick and choose your place in.”

She swallowed, finding her own voice for the first time. “Why?” she asked simply. “Why would I want to be part of something I know nothing about? Why would I let you cut... ANYTHING into me?”

John smiled then, that sadistic smirk, that she was starting to dislike. He hadn’t hurt her, yet, but the promise was there on his lips every time. Turning off the tattoo gun, he moved to the workbench his lamp was on, flicking open a tool pouch.

“If I was my sister, I would tell you it's because Joseph is perfect and good and righteous.” He picked up a knife, twirling it in his fingers before dropping it back to the pouch with a clatter. “If I was _Jacob_ , I would just beat you until you listened to me, no matter what I was making you believe.” This time it was a screwdriver, also dropped in annoyance. “If I was Joseph, I would take care to explain the history of our home but…. If I'm successful he'll do that anyway.” He turned, a paring knife in his hands. “But that story is terribly boring. And additionally…” His face split again, his eyes falling on the exposed curve of her neck, on the virgin, unmarred skin there.

“I am none of my family.”


	2. Chapter II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Deputy finds herself, well, marked.
> 
> And also discovers that John acts a little bitchy for Joseph.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this chapter taking so long!! Work and other issues just. Hit me like a freight train. But I'm back now!!

The deputy struggled, as soon as he moved towards her, eyes glued to the knife in his hands. She'd seen the look in his eyes, that wolfish look, like he wanted to eat her. That conveyed that he was going to _enjoy_ inflicting pain upon her. She understood, when she saw that look, all of the pain and suffering his papers had described, in the people left to John Seed's hands.

John Seed enjoyed the pain he gave them. He was going to enjoy the pain he gave her, too.  
Just as he pressed the edge of the knife to her skin, the tip piercing her and blood beading around it, a voice coughed in the distance. Both of them whipped around, to see Joseph Seed standing near the door, completely unscathed from the helicopter crash. She mentally cursed, as he walked over with not even a slight limp. _HOW_ had he managed to survive so well?? He wasn’t even young and springy, like she was, and even she could feel a deep ache in her bones from the jarring crash. But there he was, all smiles, grinning from ear to ear as he crossed to the pair. He placed his hand on John's shoulder, pushing him away ever so slightly, the knife lifting off of her collarbone. She suddenly sighed, not realizing she'd been gritting her teeth against the pain.

“John, my child…” he purred, voice smooth and low, as if he was talking to a frightened doe. “What have I told you? You must coax their confessions out with love, not anger. Not hate.” Joseph's hands cupped her face, forcing her to look into those piercing eyes of his, hidden behind thick yellow aviators. His thumbs ran light circles over her temples, and despite the “Fear” response ringing through her head, she felt herself calmly at the light touches.

“Now, my child. I know you second guessed yourself, back at the church.” He whispered, still sickeningly sweet, and calming. “I’m giving you a second chance. I sent you here, to my dear sweet brother John.” He removed one hand, taking John's free hand. “John is… Not the gentlest of my siblings, but he's the one who will give you the most freedom afterwards.” He placed John's hand over her heart, nodding softly. “Your person would have been wasted as one of Faith's Angels, and though I don’t doubt you have considerable skill with a weapon, you deserve so much more than being one of Jacob's dogs.” He moved both hands back to her face, leaning in close. “John needs someone to teach him mercy. To teach him kindness, even against those he loathes. Do you think you can do that?” he asked, so very close to her face, before pulling back, and gazing at John.  
“Gentle John. I do NOT want her broken.” He patted his brother's shoulder, nodding. “Be kind. Show her the compassion I know you have.” He left then, finally, leaving the two alone, John's hands still split between gently resting over her heart, and a death-grip on his knife. She heard the clatter before she saw the movement, eyes glued to the door Joseph had left through, as if he was still there. His presence was so overwhelming, she hadn’t even seen John throw the knife, far across the room.

She jumped, heart thumping as she turned to face him. He growled, muttering under his breath as he turned away, seeming to battle with himself in his own mind.

“You want to hurt me, don’t you?” she asked, watching his back carefully. He seemed to freeze, which only confirmed her suspicions. “You don’t really _care_ if I repent or not. You just want me to hurt.”

He turned back to her, tutting his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “I would take great pleasure in breaking you down, bit by bit, until all you can say to me is 'Yes'. But Joseph says I must be kind.”

She laughed, then, which seemed to catch the man off guard. He blinked at her, trying not to scream in ager at her defiance. No one LAUGHED in John’s torture chamber. Before he could ask her to kindly shut her fucking hole, she spoke. “And do you always listen to what Daddy Joseph says?” She asked him, a sneer on her face and in his voice. His right eye twitched, and she knew she was getting to him. If she could just goad him on a little further…

He leaned over her chair, gazing into her eyes. He relaxed, slowly, a smirk crawling its way onto his face.

She had to admit. She preferred the sneer over the smirk.

“Now, listen.” He replied, breath ghosting over her neck. “I have to be GENTLE. Send you out of here unscathed…. Except for that sin of yours, of course….” His hand moved up, cupping her breast in her hand, thumb flicking over the nipple, which almost immediately reacted to the light touch. “But I _do_ need to find out what that sin of yours IS first….”

He leaned down, mouthing her nipple through the light fabric of the t-shirt she was wearing, and her bra. She gasped, arching, but wriggling under him. This was… Not was she was expecting. Honestly, she probably preferred the torture to this. She flushed, and he brought his hands up, easily tearing open the fabric. With the skill of someone that had taken off more than a few bras in his lifetime, he relieved her of hers, stepping back to admire her.

“You know, Deputy, you're not bad looking, with all that off.” He purred, hand stroking through the long side of her blonde hair. She'd shaved one side, to keep it out of her face, and he stroked the slightly wavy locks there. “It’s been… incredibly long since I've been with a woman…” He whispered, soft and desperately, his free hand moving to cup her again.

She hissed, but she couldn’t even say his touch burned. In fact, she felt herself leaning into it, pressing her chest closer to his hand, almost begging her to touch her again. She couldn’t lie: John Seed WAS attractive. And despite how terrified she was of him, currently he had no weapons. And he seemed to listen, albeit begrudgingly, to Joseph. He couldn’t hurt her, right now.

So, where was the harm in enjoying herself a little, before formulating a plan to get out of here?

She leaned up, as best she could with him pressing around her, and ghosted her lips across his. His eyes alighted with surprise, before the hand in her hair tightened, and he was returning the kiss with equal fervor. He pinned her in, pressing her to the back of the chair, his other hand roaming her chest in an attempt to memorize it.

She could feel his need pressing against her leg, where he leaned against her, and… she wanted it. She pulled away, to say something to him, but before she could respond he was pulling up, and away. He crossed to the knife, and her eyes widened again in fear, the flip-flop of emotions making her stomach curl. She struggled, pulling against her bonds as he picked it up, and turned to her.

“So. Lust is then, hmm?” He cooed low, eyes flashing a darker color as he moved over her. “I was honestly expecting Wrath. Maybe Pride. Even Greed. But _lust?_ ” He grinned, letting himself drop into her lap, and raising the knife to her chest. “Lust I can definitely deal with.”

She struggled, dislodging the knife momentarily, before he pinned her shoulder. “I’m not letting you just fucking carve into me!!” She screamed, glaring at him. He glanced at her, before leaning forward and kissing her again, as he scraped the knife into her skin.

The cuts were painful, but he attempted to distract her with his tongue down her throat. It didn’t help much. She could feel every slice into her skin, as he spelled out Lust across her chest. Blood spilled down her, beading between the cuts and dripping down between her breasts.

And yet his tongue was still there, against hers, spit dribbling from her mouth as she tried to scream from the pain. John pulled away when he finished, stepping back to admire his work, huffing slightly. She could see his arousal in his pants, and watched him lick his lips as he gazed at her cuts. “Now see, was that terribly hard?” He replied, wiping the spit from his chin.

She cursed, spitting at his feet, and narrowing her eyes. “Fuck you, asshole.” She replied, shaking. He smirked at the fight still in her, and grabbed the back of her chair, starting to wheel her out of the room.

She realized with horror that she was still _topless_ and he seemed to sense it. “Don’t worry. No one will see. Plus, even if they did they are not allowed to look.” He leaned down, nuzzling at her cheek, and if she could have gotten the angle she would have slammed her face into his. He chuckled as he pulled away. “Still so feisty. But you're done! That's all I needed. Now you can be cleansed, you know, and begin the path to Eden's Gate, and all of that.” He patted her shoulder, as he rolled her into a room with a bed, and a sink. It wasn’t a _cell_ , so she assumed she should be thankful for that. But it also wasn’t _freedom_.

He moved around her, once more back to calm and smooth, readying a drug on a handkerchief. “Now, of course, I don’t trust you yet. Neither does Joseph. You may have been marked for sin, but that doesn’t mean I'm immediately letting you have access to my people and my place. You'll have to prove your loyalty.” He drawled simply, before pressing the kerchief to her nose and mouth. “Now sleep. And I'll see you when you wake up."

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, I would love if you left me comments! Ideas on where you think the story might go, or maybe just stroking my massive ego.
> 
> ...I promise I don't put bits of myself into John.


End file.
